Competition paraglider wings, designed for maximum speed and range, do not reinflate so easily. Two pilots were killed on the same day at the paragliding World Championships in Spain last July after their wings collapsed, and three others saved their lives only by opening reserve chutes.
"If I thought there was any chance my aircraft was going to spontaneously stop being an aircraft in flight, I would not get on it," said Rick Masters, a onetime hang glider who, after watching two paragliders plummet to their deaths, created a website devoted to the study of fatal paragliding accidents. Combing the Web for news accounts, he's up to 873 since 2002.
When he posted his findings on a paragliding forum, he was called a "fool," a "screwball" and a "psychopath." One angry paraglider wrote: "You are an old fart who used to fly and enjoy himself. Now you see 'your' sport threatened by these upstart paraglider pilots."
Masters, 61, lives in California's Owens Valley, home to some of the best thermal soaring in the world. He said he understands the response: Paragliders are "not going to let anyone take away their toys." He felt the same way about hang gliding — which, he concedes, is also plenty dangerous.
But he swears he didn't quit out of fear. Instead, he said, after about a decade of flying, he found himself soaring one day at 17,000 feet. He looked down at the ground and thought, "I'm bored. I gotta do something else, maybe build a house."
For others, the magic of flight doesn't wear off so easily.
Eighty-three-year-old Dodson was a pioneer when he started hang gliding almost 40 years ago. He tried paragliding, but on one of his maiden flights he went into an unexpected spiral dive after launching from 3,500-foot Kagel Mountain, about 30 miles north of downtown Los Angeles. "If I'd hit the side of the hill then, I would've been mush," he said.
In his late 60s at the time, he decided to stick with the wing he knew. He doesn't fly as often as he'd like these days because of back and respiratory trouble. So he gets his fix accompanying fellow members of what he calls the "Sylmar Senile Senior Soaring Society" to the top of the mountain in a 1988 Dodge van with 381,000 miles on it.
His last flight was on his birthday in October. "I got pretty winded getting into the harness, and winded again walking over to the launch," he said, standing at the edge of the cliff with the San Fernando Valley spread out more than a thousand feet below and the downtown skyline peeking over ridges to the south.
"But once I was in the air, and the weight was gone, I could do it," he said. "I was fine."
jack.dolan@latimes.com
Great article. Rick's website: http://www.cometclones.com/mythology2011.htm
comes up third page, google search of "paraglide and collapse".